Forgiven
by TassanaBurrfoot
Summary: It has been five years since that fated dance under the stars. Five years since Draco held her close and kissed her gently on the lips. Can she ever forgive him of his crimes? (Sequel to Priceless


Draco stared at the picture for a long moment. He watched as she twirled around in his arms. His favourite part of the picture, however, was when he took her in his arms and kissed her. The surprise on her face and then the slow melting of their bodies as she accepted him made him smile.

It had been five years since that fated night. She had been the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. When he first saw her walk into the ballroom, he had been immensely jealous of the boy whose arm she held. That should have been Draco. She should have been on his arm, not some stupid international Quidditch player.

Throughout the night, he had caught glimpses of her dancing with the boy until he could take it no longer. Frustrated, he left his date alone and took a walk along the castle grounds. He found himself by the lake and had decided to rest there for a while. Perhaps the night air could help calm him down. He had seen Colin Creevey, but had ignored the nuisance.

Then, as if Fate herself decided to smile upon Draco, the girl of his dreams came storming out of the castle and towards the Black Lake. She was furious and her voice was fiery as she screamed the most surprising obscenities. Even the year before when she had slapped Draco across the face, he had never seen her so angry. Then he realized that she wasn't angry. She was upset. Hurt. Listening closely to her words, he realized that it had been something Weasley had done to make her upset. That was when he had decided to make himself known to her.

They shared their dance and then they kissed. As they kissed, Draco saw and heard the distinct sights and sounds of a camera flashing. He had subtly glanced away from his partner just for a moment to see the Creevey boy walking away hurriedly.

Draco knew the dangers of that photograph and he knew he had to get it away from that boy and quickly. So, he left his dance partner with a kiss and followed the young Gryffindor, all the while trying to think of the fastest way to get that photograph out of the kid's possession. When he finally caught up to Creevey, he offered the kid money and was a bit surprised at how quickly the bribe worked.

Now Draco stared at the picture, remembering her laughter and her smile. Five years later, he still longed for her, but he knew his time had passed. Even if she were to forget his schoolyard bullying, there was still other things he had done. Things that had sealed his fate against her.

As if on cue, his left arm began to ache and burn in memory. He held the picture against his forehead and closed his eyes against the remembered pain. He could never expect her to forgive him. Never. Maybe if he had just stayed a bully. Maybe then he would have had a chance. After all, he could have easily passed it off as boys pulling girls pigtails. But this?

Becoming a Death Eater was unforgiveable. Watching his aunt torture her and doing nothing to stop it was unforgiveable. Offering himself back to the Dark Lord was unforgiveable.

Draco and his family had paid dearly for their crimes. His father was little more than a shell of his former self, sentenced to spend the next 20 years in Azkaban. While Draco and his mother still lived at the manor, the entire place had been almost completely cleaned out. All that remained were a few furnishings and the old portraits of long dead Malfoys. Well, and the portraits of Draco's own family, of course. Their bank accounts were nearly emptied after giving so much money to the victims and their families of the war.

Draco glanced down at the picture again. A single tear escaped his eyes as he looked upon it. The only saving grace he and his mother had had was the fact that the government fully believed they had been coerced into doing the Dark Lord's bidding because of Lucius and Bellatrix. He had to hand it to old Lucius. As much as the man had messed up, his last fatherly act before sentencing had been to confess to the judge and jury that he was the one who persuaded his family into staying with the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. He was the one who talked Draco into joining the Death Eaters.

Though, Draco knew that was only partially true. While Lucius had always held the Dark Lord in the highest regard, he never wanted Draco to be a Death Eater. In fact, Draco would not have joined had the Dark Lord not threatened his family. The moment Lucius got caught in the Ministry, Draco knew the Dark Lord would kill them all. Honestly, Draco hadn't known what else he could have done.

A knock at his door startled the young man and he looked up. He dropped the picture onto his desk as his mother entered his study. She, too, was a shell of her former self. Gone was the beautiful, vibrant woman his father had fallen in love with. Though she was still the strongest member in the family, Draco could see her strength faltering. Her blonde hair greyed along the edges and there were wrinkle marks along her eyes and mouth that hadn't been there before. There were bags under her eyes from sleepless nights and endless worries. She looked much older than she did five years ago. It was as if the absence of her husband and sucked all the happiness out of her, leaving her miserable and desolate.

Even her voice was hollow and lifeless as she rasped, "Draco?"

He gave her a pained smile as he stood up and walked up to her. He gave her a gentle hug, careful not to hug too tightly. She was so fragile now. Her lack of eating had given her a malnourished look. "Mother?" he whispered. "Is everything all right?"

She patted his chest as she returned his hug and moved past him towards his desk. "The Ministry is allowing visitors to the prison now," she told him, pulling out the latest addition of the Daily Prophet. "You should look into this and see when we'll be able to visit your father. I'm sure he would be more than happy to see us."

Draco took the paper from his mother and skimmed through the article. He wasn't exactly thrilled to see his father again after everything they had gone through, but he knew how important it was for his mother. "You will have to eat," he told her. "Father would not be happy to see you so thin."

She chuckled, though there was no real laughter in her face. "He always did want me to be skinny."

"Being skinny is different from being thin, Mother," he pointed out. "At least if you're skinny, you're still healthy. But this… when was the last time you ate anything?"

She rolled her eyes as she looked down at his desk. "Don't worry about me, Son, I…" she paused as her eyes fell upon the picture. She picked it up and looked at it. "What is this?"

Draco's eyes widened as he realized what she had stumbled upon. He quickly tried to shrug it off. "Just an old picture of…"

"Is that Hermione Granger?" she interrupted him.

The young man hung his head and let out a sigh. "Yes, it is."

"She looks different here," she mentioned as she studied the picture. "Why, she's positively glowing!"

His mother's eyes shot up to meet his. For the first time in years, Draco saw his mother's face light up. "Darling, do you know what this means?" she asked as she twirled around the room in sudden happiness.

Thinking his mother had lost her mind, Draco slowly shook his head. "It's just an old photograph," he started to say.

Narcissa's twirling came to a halt behind him, she reached over his shoulders to show him the picture. "Look at her face, Son. Look!" she happily chimed. "Look how happy she is! She could save our family, Draco."

Confused, his eyebrows knitted together as he took the picture from his mother and studied it. "I don't understand."

His mother gave a patient sigh as she practically spelled it out for him. "Isn't it obvious? She fancies you! If you date her… Or even better, if you were to marry her…"

Draco held a hand up. "Wait, Mother," he stopped her. "This picture was taken at the Yule Ball during our fourth year. Even if she fancied me then, there is no way those feelings have remained. I was a Death Eater, remember? And, in case you've forgotten, she was tortured in this very house right in front of me!"

"Yes, by your Aunt Bella. You had no control over that, you were just a boy. And the same can be said of you becoming a Death Eater. You had no control…"

"Mother! Would you listen to yourself?" he interrupted. "Granger and I are the same age! And yet she never became a Death Eater or did anything…"

"Circumstances, Son," Narcissa pointed out. "Miss Granger is a Muggle-born and never would have even been considered for the role of a Death Eater. Besides that, you were brought up by a Death Eater and lived in a house full of them. Never mind the fact that this was the Dark Lord's base of operations. You had no choice but to do what he asked of you if you wanted to live, wanted your father and me to live. You did what you had to do. And you never killed anyone."

Draco sighed as he followed his mother into his bedroom. She went into his closet and pulled out a set of his nicest robes. "There is a ball," she told him, "at the end of this month to honor the brave that had fallen during the war. One of us has to make an appearance anyway. If you go, you have a chance."

"Mother."

He saw the desperation in her eyes as she shoved the robes into his hands. "Go, Draco," she ordered him. "Turn on your Malfoy charm and go to her. She'll forgive you. Just… show her how you have changed, how you've become a better person. Give her a reason to fall in love with you and she'll be yours. You can save us, Son. You and her together can save this family and pull us out of these ruins. And who knows? Maybe…" her voice dropped to a whisper as she looked down at the tattered old Slytherin rug on the floor. "Just maybe… The two of you can bring your father home and restore honor to this family."


End file.
